


Winchester 12 GA

by Firebog



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Fluff, Human Castiel, Human Castiel in the Bunker, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 16:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4968889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firebog/pseuds/Firebog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean plays another game of are we dating or do we just fuck sometimes? The game goes like this, drink a bottle of beer for every maybe-date he’s been on with Cas and drink a double shot for every time they’ve fucked.</p><p>Dean’s not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that he’s been stumbling drunk for the last four days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winchester 12 GA

**Author's Note:**

> An experiment in combining conflicting tropes. Today's tropes: Dean’s tendency to binge drink when he’s dealing with anything remotely emotional + Marriage proposal (AU in that I refuse to acknowledge season 9 or 10 as things that actually happened)

Dean plays another game of are we dating or do we just fuck sometimes? The game goes like this, drink a bottle of beer for every maybe-date he’s been on with Cas and drink a double shot for every time they’ve fucked.

Dean’s not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that he’s been stumbling drunk for the last four days.

They’ve been on a lot of maybe-dates. Exhibits A through E:

He’s asked Cas, _hey you wanna go get something to eat?_ and Cas has said, _alright._ Cas had asked the next day, _do you want to go out to eat?_ and he said, _sure._ So they’ve both asked each other out to dinner but that was primarily because no one had gone grocery shopping in two weeks and the bunker’s fridge was empty, so it was go out or starve. And Sam came along the first time so he isn’t sure if that counted.

Then there was the _take Cas shopping_ date but that was necessity. Six months in clothes too big for him had resulted in a enough kitchen and hunting accidents that everyone had decided that Cas couldn’t keep hunting with hand-me-down clothes from Dean. So he had taken Cas shopping and maybe gotten an eyeful of Cas in nothing but underwear because the crappy changing room door didn’t shut properly and would slowly swing open but that was definitely an accident.

There was that time in Oregon when the car broke down and they had ended up stranded for a week while Dean got the parts and fixed the car. The motel they had stayed at was booked up so the best they could get was a room with one bed plus a couch. They had each spent two nights on the couch before they had come to a mutual agreement that the four foot couch was too small for the six foot guys. Cas had rolled his eyes a lot and made that throaty noise that meant he thought Dean was being ridiculous and told him _“lie down Dean, you’re keeping me awake.”_ So Dean had lain down and stared at the ceiling counting water spots until Cas started snoring, then he counted the time between each snore. Dean had rushed through the repair work as fast as he could after that because he had no idea what to do about sharing a bed with Cas and knowing it was a slow count of three between each snore.

There were other times but those are the ones his brain is stuck on at the moment.

Then there’s the handful of times they’ve fucked after a rough hunt. It makes the whole thing messy. Not because everyone knows that, for one Dean Winchester, sex does not equal a relationship but because Cas is a dark zone on that front. Does sex mean anything to Cas? Dean has no freakin’ clue. As far as Dean knows Cas’s experience before they got raging drunk and fucked in the back of the impala after a hunt amounted to upsetting a hooker, kissing a demon, and what he _thinks_ was a chaste marriage to a woman Cas met while he had amnesia.

_—what if it wasn’t a chaste marriage?_

Dean groans and pours himself a triple shot. It’s a new part of the game. A triple shot for every time he wonders if sex with _him_ doesn’t mean anything to Cas because he had to go and set the Dean sex does not mean a relationship Winchester precedent.

Dean slams the glass down. There’s really only one way to solve this. He needs to find a bar and make some money.

He stands.

Then promptly sits down because he’s about 75% sure that his room isn’t supposed to spin that way. 25% of him wonders if he triggered some kind ancient magic artifact by accident and it really is supposed to spin like that.

He decides that online shopping is the way to go.

He reaches over for his tablet. It turns into a flop and roll and it ends with him hanging off the edge of his bed with the tablet on the floor.

He stares down at the tablet. He squints one eye shut and slowly finger pokes in the words, _dude rings._

They’re all terrible.

He sucks in a breath and pokes at the screen until it says, _dude engagement rings._  

They’re.....nice. In silver, black, and gold. With and without stones. Some are puzzle rings that match and slide together. They’re nice and shiny and new. Polished.

It feels like a lie.

He’s not nice and shiny and new. He isn’t polished. He’s stitched back together and rough around the edges and he thinks plaid is a primary colour. If he does this he wants Cas to know what he’s signing up for; worn and used.

He slowly single finger pokes the screen until it says, _hunter rings_. The screen fills up with lovely silver and black rings with men using crossbows, deer, forests, and ducks etched into them.

Not the right kind of hunter.  

He tries, _fighting rings_ but that turns up brass knuckles mostly. He tries _sword rings_ because when he thinks _Cas_ he thinks angel sword. Those turn out to be replicas of movie rings or just plain impractical. He tries _angel rings_ but those turn out to be goofy, impractical, and depressing. Cas isn’t an angel anymore. He probably doesn’t want to be reminded of that all the time with a ring.

He tries _knife rings_ next and those are actually pretty cool. He spends ten minutes looking at rings that have blades on them or hidden in them. He ends up ordering four swiss army rings because they look damn useful and he figures they could all use one of those. Online shopping is the best.

At 300$ a pop, plus shipping, it’s time for a new credit card.

He types in a multitude of variations of insert noun or verb here plus ring. He stops when he finds an artist run shop that makes car rings to order. He could get the front of the impala on a ring but decides that’s more his obsession and not Cas’s. Cas likes his car but he isn’t borderline in love with it like he is.

He sighs, stops to take a sip of whiskey, and moves on.

He taps in, _gun rings_ and manages to fumble it and hit video instead of image results.

He stares. He squints. He’s pretty sure that can’t be right. He clicks on the video anyway and ends up watching six minutes of a burly guy making rings out of shotgun shell casings.

“I could do that.” Dean murmurs to himself as the rings take shape. “We have loads of shotgun shells.”

Twenty minutes later he’s standing in the library with a shotgun shell in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other while Sam makes faces at him and Cas stares at him like he’s crazy.

“Lemme see your hand.” Dean says. He doesn’t wait for a reply. He grabs Cas’s hand and starts measuring it against the shell. He isn’t actually sure how big or small it needs to be. He’s just taking a wild guess and hoping that a 12 gauge will work because it’s all they have.

“What’re you doing?” Sam asks.

“None of your business.” Dean says gruffly. He nods at Cas’s hand, satisfied with his choice.

“Dean?” Cas asks.

“Shh.” Dean says. He holds the shell up and looks it over. It’s a Winchester. He frowns. Maybe that’s too forward. He wants Cas to be a Winchester - that’s the whole point of this farce - but maybe Cas wants to...make up his own last name and keep that. “Cas. How do you feel about— _Winchesters?”_

Sam snorts. Dean shoots him a dark look. Sam snorts again.

“Uhh....” Cas says. He looks to Sam. Sam shrugs at him. Cas looks back to Dean; pink creeping up his neck. “They’re....reliable.”

Dean nods. Reliable is good. He’s not shiny and new but he’s reliable. He could do that. “Good.”

Dean marches away. He’s pretty sure the Men of Letters left behind everything he needs down in one of the lower level shops. Behind him he can hear a whispered conversation.

_What was that about?_

_I dunno, you tell me._

Three hours later and he’s got a bunch of mangled shotgun casings laying around a shop that came right out of the 50s; along with its 50′s safety standards. Dean holds up his last attempt between thumb and bandage covered finger. It’s.....ring shaped. He squints at it. Definitely ring shaped. He turns it in his fingers. Winchester 12 GA is still clearly legible.

....mostly.

He grabs the whiskey off the workbench and takes a swig. Mostly is good enough. He isn’t always easy to read either.

Dean makes his way back to the library only to find that Cas has left - Sam too - but now Kevin is there.

“Oh my god.” Kevin says horrified. “What _**happened**?”_

“What?” Dean asks.

“Did you set off something in the stacks? A curse or something?” Kevin says. He gets up and moves closer to Dean but keeps his distance.

“No.” Dean says confused. He looks around for Cas.

“Dean. You’re covered in blood.” Kevin informs him. “...and I’m not sure if you’re confused from blood loss or drunk or both.”

Dean looks down at his shirt. He had bled like a stuck pig when he had caught his finger with the a hand drill- before he had found out they had an electric drill.

“Dean.” Cas says sounding relieved. “We were wondering where you—” Cas’s face goes white when Dean turns around.

“Cas.” Dean says. He coughs and clears his throat. He decides this should be formal. “Castiel...”

Dean draws a blank. He had a speech worked out. All about how he isn’t polished and shiny but that he wants it to mean something to Cas when they’re fucking because Dean sex does not mean a relationship Winchester would like sex to mean a relationship.

“Dean!” Sam barks.

Then suddenly everyone is running at him and pawing at his shirt and asking if he’s okay and what happened.

He shoves them away and puts one of the tables between him and them. Why can’t anyone just calm down and let him do this?

“What happened?” Sam asks as Cas asks, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Dean says and as an after thought adds, “I was making this.” He holds up the shotgun shell ring. “Because I didn’t know if-” he motions between himself and Cas, “-we’re dating or just.....”

Dean looks around the room and realizes three things. Cas is there so that’s good because he needs Cas here for this but Sam and Kevin are also there and that’s not good because what if Cas lets him down easy and he has to run back to his room with his tail between his legs?

Sam’s face runs through his _confused at Dean’s antics_ face all the way to his _confused and wondering if maybe this is an alternate reality_ face.

Kevin looks like he’s contemplating running to his room.

“What?” Cas says utterly confused.

There’s a horrible twisting dagger of ice in Dean’s chest. Is Cas confused because maybe this was a bad drunk idea or is Cas confused because they aren’t dating?

“Uh...” Dean feels his face flush. “I just....thought....well....” He finds something highly fascinating to look at on the floor. “You know...there was Chasity and....okay, so maybe my dad didn’t run off because he hated his job at the post office but....” He rolls the ring between his fingers. “And....” He snaps his head up to glare at Cas. “I don’t know, man!” He growls. He points the bottle of whiskey at him. “You were married before!”

Apparently that doesn’t make sense because everyone is staring at him like he’s speaking in tongues. Dean looks at the bottle in his hand. Maybe, just maybe, he needs a new coping mechanism.

“Cas was married?” Kevin asks. His face looks like he might have set off that spinning room artifact.

“Yeah.” Sam says. He waves dismissively, “Right after the Purgatory soul eating thing. There was this reservoir and some woman found him and took him in.”

“His name was Emmanuel.” Dean says mournfully. Emmanuel. God. He hates thinking about how Cas looked at him when he thought he was Emmanuel.

“It was from bouncing baby names dot com.” Cas adds helpfully.

Kevin looks between them. “....that literally does not make sense!” Kevin throws his hands up and starts doing his screechy prophet thing. “Dean is covered in blood! What does that have to do with Cas being married!? What sort of priorities do we have here!?”

“I’m _fine!”_ Dean snaps. He holds his bandaged finger out. “It was barely a nick!” He stomps around the table and grabs Cas’s hand. He jams the ring onto Cas’s finger. “There! It means something!”

Everyone stares at him. Dean makes a disgusted noise. Can’t a man put a ring on it in peace? Nobody says anything. Dean makes another disgusted noise then turns on his heel and marches to his room.

It isn’t until the next morning when he wakes up with a pounding headache and looks down at the bloody t-shirt he’s still wearing that he understands why everyone was more concerned about his health and safety rather than his are we dating or fucking dilemma.

He changes his clothes. He checks on his finger in case it was worse than drunk him thought it was. It’s fine. It really is just a nick by hunter standards. He sits in his room for hours and watches the time tick away. He had proposed to Cas last night.

Except for the part where he didn’t actually ask Cas to marry him and had jammed a ring on his finger and stomped away.

He flops back on the bed and buries his aching head in the pillows.

When he summons up the strength to lift his head it’s noon. He narrows his eyes at his alarm clock. He can definitely drag out his regular get out of bed routine long enough so that everyone will have turned in for the night. In fact he could just time his schedule perfectly from here on out so that he never has to face any of them again.

It’s close to 6pm when Dean’s stomach starts growling with a vengeance. He isn’t sure how much he’s eaten in the last four days. He can remember a handful of meals but mostly he remembers getting his calories through beer.

His stomach growls again. It roils with hunger. Dean decides he hasn’t sunk low enough to start eating the leather of his boots.

At least the headache is gone.

He paces in the hall outside the kitchen for fifteen minutes hoping everyone will leave but apparently they’re camping out in the kitchen for the rest of his life.

He takes a deep breath and walks in. Cas is over at the counter focused on putting away leftovers while Sam and Kevin take one look at Dean and suddenly realize they both have that thing they’ve got to do and take off. Dean rolls his eyes. Right. _Now_ they leave.

Dean stands in the doorway and tries to think up a good reason why he’s got to go help Sam and Kevin with that thing. He lets out a sigh. He can’t think up a good imaginary reason to go help Sam and Kevin with their imaginary problem without looking like a jackass.

Then he has a serious debate with himself about whether it’s worth it to not look like a jackass. Dean jackass Winchester could be snug in his room drinking himself into an early grave right now.

Some time during his inner turmoil about the worth of his dignity and whether he’d have to dig his own grave Cas has turned around to stare at him.

“Uh....hi Cas.” Dean says because what the hell else does he say? Sorry I rammed a ring on your finger and forgot to propose and oh by the way are we dating or just fucking?

“Dean.” Cas says in that voice that could either mean the world is about to end or he wants to know Dean’s opinion on coffee brands.

“So....last night....” Dean starts. His eyes flick down to Cas’s hand. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

_Cas is wearing the ring._

Dean can read _—ester GA 12_ on the band from where he’s standing.

“Last night.” Cas says like the entire thing is mystifying. _Last night? Oh, what could Dean possibly mean by last night?_

Dean coughs. “Yeah.”

“Hmmm.” Cas says. His thumb starts to twist the ring on his finger. Now Dean can read _Winchester G—_ Cas hums again but doesn’t say anything.

Dean starts up a mental list of swears to describe the moment. He rubs at the back of his neck and tries to remember that speech he thought up last night. Drunk him thought it was pretty good so it couldn’t have been terrible. It was better than standing in the kitchen gawking at Cas.

Dean takes a breath and launches into his half remembered speech about how he’s not polished and new. Except instead of the definitely eloquent speech drunk him had planned out, he rambles. He starts off with his dilemma, meanders into how cool knife rings are, stops and goes back and describes some of the cool replica movie rings he looked at and that one shop that made car rings, jumps ahead to how he caught his finger up in a hand drill but it’s cool he’s okay, then....

He narrows his eyes at Cas. Cas is shaking. Not burr it’s cold in here shaking. More like the trying to keep from laughing in his face kind of shaking.

Dean rolls his eyes. “You were just gonna let me go on forever, weren’t you?”

“Of course not.” Cas says gravely but it’s at odds with the grin on his face. “I’m sure you’d have stopped when you got hungry anyway.”

Dean huffs, “Look, are we dating or not?”

Cas gives him a coy look. “Oh. I’m sorry, Dean. I couldn’t possibly date you.” Cas steps forward and loops his arms around Dean’s neck, “I’m engaged to this man, Winchester Twelve Gauge. He even gave me a ring with his name on it. It’s a little strange, we only met last night, but surely it’s fate. And I would know. I was an angel not long ago. We know these things.”

Dean snorts. “Winchester Twelve Gauge. Yeah. I hear he’s reliable.”

“Hmm, yes.” Cas runs his knuckles against the back of Dean’s neck. Dean can feel the ring slide along. Cas grins at him and leans in for a kiss.

Dean decides that some kissing is definitely in order but then suddenly Cas pulls away with a look of disgust on his face.

“What?” Dean asks.

Cas wrinkles his nose. “Winchester Twelve Gauge needs to brush his teeth.”

Dean grins at him. “Oh, well, you better go tell him that.” He pulls Cas into another kiss.

Cas ducks out of his arms and scowls at him from across the kitchen. Dean smirks. Cas rolls his eyes then returns to his task of putting away the leftovers.

Dean watches Cas and slowly realizes he didn’t actually get a straight answer. “So....we _are_ dating?”

Cas stops and stares at him like he’s just asked if ghosts are afraid of iron. “Yes, Dean. Being engaged generally entails dating. Even I know that and I’ve only been human for a handful of years.”

Dean nods and definitely doesn’t silently fist pump the air the moment Cas’s back is turned. _Yes!  
_

**Author's Note:**

> So, cool thing, shot gun shell rings are a real thing and youtube really does have videos on how to make them.


End file.
